


let me see you stripped

by allmywill



Category: Arcadia (UK Band), Duran Duran, The Power Station (Supergroup)
Genre: Biting, Blow Jobs, Clothing Kink, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fingerfucking, Friends With Benefits, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Intimacy, Kissing, Lipstick & Lip Gloss, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, Photo Shoots, Reunions, Sexual Tension, Teasing, Threesome, Touching, Undressing, soft and cute crucial three
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:56:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23142055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allmywill/pseuds/allmywill
Summary: Nick and John have a plan to reel Simon in. It requires a certain blue jumpsuit and not much else.
Relationships: Nick Rhodes/John Taylor (Duran Duran), Simon Le Bon/John Taylor (Duran Duran), Simon Le Bon/Nick Rhodes, Simon Le Bon/Nick Rhodes/John Taylor (Duran Duran)
Comments: 17
Kudos: 21





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> title from Depeche Mode. Tash hit me up with a little prompt and i couldn’t resist. more to come ;)

_1981_

“How about this, Nigel?”

“Is everything you picked out black, leather, or black leather?”

“I asked you a question.”

“Uh, turn around.”

“What, so you can look at my—”

“Looks great, Nick.”

“Keep looking at me like that and I swear...”

“What’re you gonna do?”

Nick sidles up to John, in a pair of skin tight leathers that are probably a size too small. The changing room is quiet, almost eerily so.

He looks up at him with heavy eyes, lined dark with eyeliner. A hand trails down his bare chest. “What would you like me to do?” Nick smirks, the bastard. “ _Nigel_.”

John swallows thickly. Nick has taken the upper hand in their little game of teasing, as he usually does. “Everything that you’re not supposed to do in a fitting room.”

Nick chuckles, sweet young face blushing. He pushes John away and retreats to the pile of clothes he’s brought in. “We still have things to try on,” he quips.

John watches him bend over, the leather clinging perfectly to his body. He has to stop himself from moaning out loud. He looks like a dream. “When will you stop all your teasing?”

“When we find something that’ll make Simon pounce on us.”

“Remember what I said,” John starts, “ _you_ reel him in first, then that’s when I come into play.”

Nick is sat down now, trying to peel the leather off his legs, but to no avail. “Right. I’m the whore of the group, I get it. Now would you help me get these off, please?”

“You’re not a whore,” John says, kneeling in front of Nick. “Simon likes you a lot. I can tell.”

They’re impossibly close now. John hooks his fingers underneath the waistband of Nick’s too tight leathers and pulls. They start to come off, but not without a bit more force. It makes John giggle. They’re quite a hilarious sight.

“If only Simon was here to see _this_.” Nick leans back as John drags the restricting material down his legs. “Two idiots getting stuck in vinyl.”

“I don’t know. I think he’d be a bit turned on,” John remarks with a wink.

Nick rises again and goes for the pile of clothes, John’s eyes on his bare legs as he backs away.

“Speak for yourself,” Nick replies. “And no, I’m not sucking you off in here. Maybe later.”

He stands in front of John once more and with a soft hand, caresses the side of his face. He lifts his chin, and Nick admires the submission in his eyes. He could get him to do mostly anything right now.

But mostly anything can wait.

John sighs. “Absolute _tease_.”

“You love it.”


	2. Chapter 2

“Is that too tight, babe?”

“No, that’s perfect.”

John pulls the blue strap a little harder, eliciting a little groan from Nick.

“Okay, you can let me go,” Nick says, “I quite like breathing, you know.”

“You look amazing.” John complies, watching Nick turn back around and fuss with the jumpsuit some more. “He’s going to love it.”

It hugs his slender body, the smooth pale blue complimenting his frame. He fixes the bright red scarf wrapped around his neck, making sure it’s situated correctly. John lays a hand on his waist and moves in. He closes the distance promptly, and Nick submits to his kiss, taking all he gives.

When they part, John has an idea. He looks at his lips, bare of any lipstick still. “You know what you need?”

“What?”

“Red lipstick.”

Nick backs away from him. “Are you sure? Wouldn’t that too be too much, like I’m trying too hard?”

John goes over to the vanity, searching and retrieving a luscious red. “Not at all.”

He uncaps the lipstick and twists it up, closing in on Nick. He puts one hand under his chin and swipes the color across his bottom lip with calculated precision. His breath hitches; the look in his smoky eyes quite ravishing.

He continues, hand splayed across his cheek as he applies more. He gets a little carried away, perhaps, because Nick wraps his fingers around his wrist and pushes away after a few long moments.

“Okay, Nigel, I think that will do it.” Nick smiles, going to the mirror to check his best friend’s handiwork.

He needs to blot some of the excess away, but John seems to beat him to it. A hand on his shoulder, he pulls Nick in for another sweet kiss, transferring the extra lipstick onto his own lips.

John pulls away with a smile, rubbing his lips together, satisfied with himself. “There. Perfect.”

Nick shakes his head. “You’re ridiculous.” He lets a hand drift down to the red sash around John’s hips, running his fingers along it. It’s silky smooth to the touch.

“Can’t wait to see Simon’s face when he sees you.” John leans into his touch, his own hands coming up to rest on Nick’s face again. “You’re gorgeous, Nick.”

“You don’t look too bad yourself. The lipstick matches your hair.”

John realizes and nods. He lets him go and tries to compose himself. The sight of Nick really has him worked up. “Ready for the shoot? And to reel our frontman in with your otherworldly good looks?”

Nick laughs, parting from him with hesitation. “I’m ready.”

Nick knows he will stand out amongst the rest of the band: the four of them cloaked in black, red, and white. The contrast might look good, though. Maybe he was meant to be the one in blue, to be both the eye candy and the mastermind behind their music at the same time.

When they exit the dressing room together, John caresses the small of his back for reassurance. Nick’s heart beats wildly as they see Simon coming down the hall, heading to the shoot as well. He’s fully dressed in his own striking military style outfit.

He turns around as he’s walking and stops, eyes glued to Nick. He waits for the two of them to catch up to him, heavy gaze watching Nick the entire time.

“Wow, look at you two!” he exclaims, eyes then drifting to John. “I like the lipstick. Looks great on you.”

John looks to Nick, giving him a glance that conveys something along the lines of: _I told you he would like it, see?_ “Thank Nick, his idea of course.”

Nick can feel Simon’s eyes return to him, burning through his skin. He knows it’s going to be a _long_ shoot with all these feelings stirring.

The white backdrop beckons them. Andy and Roger are already there, waiting for the other three. They look quite similar to Simon, in tight black and red, and it has both Nick and John’s minds wandering to places previously unexplored.

But Simon seems like the best place to start something like that.

They all stand in a line in front of the background, the photographer requesting that Nick stay towards the middle.

As he’s moving, he bumps into Simon, entirely by accident, but he’s glad. The taller of the two rests a hand on his back, as if to steady him. After a few moments, he lets it drift down, stopping just before he reaches his ass. Nick can feel the heat between them rising, disorienting him slightly.

He looks to John, who only gives him a quick knowing glance from where he’s standing next to Roger on the end.

He takes a deep breath as the camera starts to flash before them, watching Simon posing out of the corner of his eye. He spreads his legs and puts his hands on his belt, looking larger than life. Nick daydreams about being taken by him, about the way his big hands would feel all over his body.

It gets hard to concentrate on posing for the photos when all he can think about is the man next to him. He leans closer wherever he can, their uniforms making contact. Nick is burning up underneath his. He’s hoping it’s not noticeable.

“Nick?” Simon asks suddenly, thought they’re still shooting. “Can I talk to you then? It’s about a track that’s been in my head. I think you could help.”

Nick is stunned out of his skin. He nods, brain a million miles away. “Yeah, sure.”

He hears Andy chuckling to himself beside him, like he knows something he doesn’t know. But there’s a chance he does, that it’s more than just his own wishful thinking. Nick’s hoping this is about what he thinks it’s about.

He’s convinced his last minute outfit change did the trick. Even if it didn’t, there’s no way all Simon’s lingering glances and touches are for nothing, and having him alone for a few minutes won’t hurt anybody.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i’m really loving this little fic, and i hope you are too!!

Safe to say that Nick is more than delighted when the dressing room door shuts behind the two of them, finally alone together.

Simon looks at him with such hunger in his eyes. There’s a beat of silence between them, then another, and it grows to a throbbing rhythm. Maybe it’s just Nick’s heartbeat, kicking like a drum in his chest as he stares at the singer.

They gravitate towards each other, Simon extending a hand that settles on Nick’s waist. A touch so simple almost has his knees buckling.

“This isn’t about a track,” Nick points out, ruby red lips upturned. “Is it?”

“Not exactly, no.” Simon pulls him closer, other hand on his waist now too.

“Care to tell me what it _is_ about then?”

Simon’s grip tightens for a moment, then loosens, as he lets his hands roam further. “You and this jumpsuit, but mostly you.”

Nick falls quiet, those big hands rendering him speechless. He allows himself to fall forward into Simon’s arms. He clutches onto the red and white tassels of his uniform, desperate for more of his pleasant touch, for more of him.

“Need you out of this,” Simon sighs against him. “It’s pretty, though. Just like you.”

“Please,” Nick matches his tone, the wanting he feels evident.

Without rushing, Simon starts with the red scarf tucked into his shirt. He unravels it slowly, the fabric falling to the floor behind him. Nick’s neck is now exposed, pale skin with a smooth complexion, but not for much longer.

Simon leans down, pulling Nick in as he attaches his lips to his neck. He gasps, his body like putty in Simon’s hands. He’s so willing to take this further, but he has John’s words in the back of his mind.

_Reel him in._

Well, it appears he already has. Now all he has to do is tell him what he wants. But there’s no harm in taking it a little further, here and now.

Simon’s lips nip and suck on his skin, tasting him, taking him in. Gentle and tact hands make their way down his back to the curve of his ass. Nick presses further into him, their bodies flush. He tries to keep from being too loud; he tends to be, with John especially.

Their lips meet finally, in a wave of heat that washes over them in cascades. Simon greedily kisses him, taking control as he deepens their union. Nick knows his lipstick is wrecked now. It’s hard to care about such a trivial thing when he has Simon wrapped around his manicured finger.

Simon draws back to fumble with the straps of his jumpsuit. Nick’s own hands fly to his chest, undoing buttons with skilled hands. He has no idea where they’re going with this, he’s just enjoying his warm lips and wandering hands.

With his jumpsuit loosened, and Simon’s chest on show, their lips meet again. Nick’s hands caress bare skin, running along his pecs. A moan into his mouth indicates Simon is enjoying himself just as much as Nick is.

Simon pushes the top half of the jumpsuit off his shoulders, so all that’s left is the thin white shirt underneath. When they part once more, Nick looks at his lips and chuckles at the sight.

“You’re covered in my lipstick.” Nick then reaches up and swipes a thumb across his Simon’s lips.

“Ah, don’t worry about it.”

Nick takes this as an opportunity to ask the question he’s been dying to ask. “Can I ask you something? It might be a bit of a shock.”

Simon raises a brow. “Go on.”

“Would you want to join in with John and I, messing around?”

He doesn’t look very shocked. If anything, he looks pleased. _Excited_. “Johnny, huh? I’d like that.” He pauses, searching Nick’s face. “Something told me you two were shagging.”

“And something tells me Andy knows about your thing for me.”

“That was an accident!”

“Sure it was, Charlie.” Nick laughs, still in Simon’s grip. “Sure it was.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i’ve been listening to lots of _Rio _, can’t you tell?__

John and Nick lead Simon to the bed, all still clothed in their outfits from a long day of photos. John pushes him down with ease, one big hand on his chest. This is exactly what they wanted; their frontman at their mercy.

The bassist works to unbutton his jacket, hands working in a hurried frenzy. Simon keens as he feels Nick’s weight cause the bed to dip beside him. He looks over at the keyboardist with blown pupils, eyes drifting down to his stunning red lips.

John’s hair falls in his eyes, and he makes an attempt to flick it away without taking his hands off of Simon. He pulls the military jacket out from underneath him and tosses it aside.

“Two Durans for the price of one,” Simon remarks, witty. “How lucky am I?”

Nick leans forward and presses his lips to his cheek, just below his eye. He leaves behind a perfect lipstick kiss. “Very lucky.”

John hovers over him, a smile on his painted lips. He initiates their first kiss, mouths molding together and moving in synch. Nick curls himself into Simon’s side as he watches them, proud of himself for winning him over, although it didn’t take much: just a well-fitted blue jumpsuit.

They disconnect and John continues to undress him, black undershirt now off his shoulders, his bare chest on display. Nick helps pull it off him the rest of the way. A hand dances across his chest, feeling him, endlessly desperate for him.

John lets Nick take over, unbuckling his belt. Simon stops him there, extending a hand and removing his scarf once again. It joins the growing pile of military pieces on the floor: red, black, and soon, blue.

Simon sits up and works on Nick, loosening the jumpsuit and pushing it off his shoulders. He yanks his white undershirt off in one swift movement.

“Easy, Charlie,” Nick giggles. He revels in his touch and the feeling of his newly freed skin, on show for the other two to view.

John drops down on the bed, removing his own jacket himself; the heat between them starting to get to him. He watches Simon pin Nick down and ease the jumpsuit off, unbuttoning and unlatching where necessary. It adds to the closet on the floor, the bright color contrasting with the others.

Nick kisses Simon, quick and chaste, before he moves to John. He goes for his red sash, then his white blouse, deft fingers moving with haste. John lays back and lets him take control, black trousers undone and pulled from his long legs.

Simon shucks out of his own and they now all match, only underwear and miles of bare skin. He falls back into the bed between Nick and John.

“How do you want us?” John asks, calloused fingers running up Simon’s bicep.

“How do you want _me_?” Simon answers with another question. He looks to Nick, stretched out beside him. “Whatever you do to each other, do that to me.”

Nick and John meet each other’s eyes, faces flushed.

John makes the first move, lips attaching to Simon’s neck. He sucks and bites all the way down his chest, leaving a trail of his own lip imprints, covering his body. Nick then joins in on the Le Bon lip service. He cups his face and tilts his head, meeting in a messy lipstick flavored kiss.

Dangerously close to his cock, John teases him, hot breath fanning over thin fabric. Simon sighs into against Nick’s sticky lips as he tugs his underwear down.

The warm, wet heat of the bassist’s mouth wraps around the singer. He cries out, Nick smirking against his mouth. As they continue, Simon wraps a strong arm around him, cradling him and keeping him there. He’s got him just where he wants him.

He thrusts into John’s mouth, unable to control himself. His fingers rake Simon’s thighs, up and down, sheer desire driving the action.

“ _Fucking hell_ ,” Simon voices, even simple words difficult to say. He rests his forehead against Nick’s, breath ghosting over his face.

John takes all of him, swallowing deep. Simon thrusts again, his grip on Nick tightening. The keyboardist moves to kiss him once more, their tongues brushing together in the process and creating the sweetest friction.

Nick licks into his mouth with fervor, smearing more of his lipstick on the singer. He continues to mark him up, disconnecting from the kiss and pressing his lips to his neck, then his jaw. He takes the hoop earring dangling from his lobe between his teeth and tugs at it lightly. Simon moans, a low vibration as he splays a large hand across Nick’s bare back.

With John’s wonderful mouth, Simon knows he won’t last much longer. “Gonna come, Johnny.”

He hollows out his cheeks, giving him all he’s got. Simon comes with a cry, nails dragging down Nick’s back as John works to swallow his load.

John pulls off him, wiping his mouth and climbing back up to meet Simon.

“What... what do you like?” Simon asks him, breathless. “I’ll do whatever you want.”

“Whatever I want?” John props his head up on his hand and smirks.

“Anything at all.”

John looks to Nick, face buried comfortably in the crook of Simon’s neck. “I’ll sort myself out, just work on Nick.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.” John leans over, lips to Simon’s ear. “He likes to be finger fucked,” he whispers.

Nick smiles, a beautiful hand resting on Simon’s chest. Simon nods and turns to him, looking at him with lusty eyes.

Still holding him, he brings his other hand to his face, two fingers pressed to his smeared red lips. He takes them into his mouth, sucking and swirling his tongue around them. The sight of him like this drives Simon wild.

He pulls them out and dips down, pressing into Nick. He clings to him, jaw slack as he goes deeper.

John watches, hand slipping down and grabbing himself. Nick’s face alone is enough for him, and the sounds he’s making only help more.

“ _Charlie_ ,” he sighs, dreamily. His made up eyes stay glued to Simon.

Simon picks up the pace, feeling Nick’s uneven breath on his skin as he does. His hands scratch his chest as he keeps him close, strong arms around him. Fingers pumping, heat increasing, John is just a moment behind. 

Nick feels him spread them, brushing that familiar sensitive spot within him. He cries out and comes, Simon’s fingers to blame.

Pumping himself in time, John does too, stating at Simon’s lipstick kiss covered body. He’s quite the sight; the red complimenting his skin tone.

They pull away from each other, then all three meet in the middle of the bed, a pile of limbs. They’re all a sweaty, sticky, red tinted disaster.

“We should do that again sometime,” Simon suggests, bringing his boys closer.

Nick and John couldn’t agree more.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and last but not least, a soft chapter. a little something i wanted to convey: intimacy has many forms, as does love.

_1985_

After their reuniting and a quiet, slow dinner together in a secluded restaurant, the three of them find themselves back at John’s place. The red wine is going straight to their heads in the best way, subduing them but not too much.

The night is still young. They kick their shoes off at the door, John flicking on the light so they can see. It floods their eyes, slightly bleary from the lulling taxi ride. They then enter the living room, quiet and dark. It’s quite the opposite up on stage, performing their songs for their loving audience. But those nights are few and far between now.

John turns on another light, a lamp beside the the sofa. He dims it, setting the mood. Nick perches himself on the sofa. He is joined by Simon, practically sitting on top of him. John watches as Nick sleepily cuddles into his side, still in a full face of makeup and his silk suit.

Simon pulls him closer, arm around his shoulders. He turns his head and presses his face into his hair, black and full of product. “Bit early for you to be this tired, babe.”

John joins them, sitting beside Simon. “You two have been working hard,” he adds. His and Simon’s thighs are pressed together. He wraps an arm around him and rests his head on his shoulder. “Bet you’re tired too, Charlie.”

Simon brings him in too, happy to have him back by his side, where he belongs. “Exhausted, now that I think of it. The album’s coming along well though.”

The moment is one of peace between them, but there’s an elephant in the room. They all know what it is. It’s hard to speak of, especially now, with side projects taking off. Duran has been put on the back burner; something they never thought would happen.

What scares Simon and Nick is that John seems to be going off the rails. He’s not the best at keeping it on the down low: the drugs, the drink, the loss of control. Power Station is not entirely to blame, though it has been keeping the three of them apart. Arcadia has, too. Things haven’t been normal between them for quite a while, and it’s starting to get concerning.

Nick looks past Simon and at John, watching how his nose twitches and he itches at it. He’s been acting like this all evening. It’s hard to ignore. It’s all he can focus on.

Maybe there’s _two_ elephants in the room. Nick has to address one of them, before it drives him insane. He was too afraid to start this conversation in public.

“So, Duran,” Nick starts, grabbing both Simon and John’s attention. “After Power Station and Arcadia, what’s the plan?”

Nick’s dark lids burn holes into his band mates. John brushes a lock of hair out of his face, desperately needing a cut, as if to stall. Nick feels like he can’t breathe.

“I want to continue making music with you guys. I was stupid for even second guessing it. Andy, well... I can’t speak for.” John looks sadder as he speaks. “I’m gonna miss Rog. I’m gonna miss him so bad.”

“We have to keep going. I can’t give you up. Either of you.” Simon half smiles, both of them in his arms. “Who knows, we might get even closer.”

Nick laughs softly into the crook of Simon’s neck. “How would that be possible? You already live in my pocket.”

“We could all get married. Though I reckon Johnny would make a _terrible_ husband.” Simon nudges John, eyeing his glossy lips.

“How would you know?” John quips, unaffected by his joke. “You can have Nick, your beautiful _Arcadian prince_. He looks cute hanging on your arm _and_ he’s good in bed.”

“You’d get too jealous,” Simon teases lightly. “Admit it.”

John looks at them, pondering it. “Obviously. But it’s like you two were made for each other.”

Nick pulls himself away from Simon’s side and retreats to John’s. He cuddles up to him, a hand on top of his hand; a soft, reassuring touch. “Nonsense, Nigel. You’re in this too, still. I’ve really missed you, having you around all the time. It’s not the same without you.”

“You mean that?”

“Why would I say it if I didn’t?”

John takes in the sight of him, made up eyes shining as they lock with his. He realizes just how much he has missed him after being away for so long. He needs Nick and there’s no denying it.

They’re both leaning in and their lips meet, a combination of longing and love. John goes easy on him, keeping his tongue to himself. He’s feeling worn down himself and doesn’t want to start something he can’t finish.

Nick smiles into the kiss before they part. He has always loved the way John treats him, taking control when he needs him to. Their natural push and pull creates a perfect balance. It’s been so long; they know each other deeply, understand each other beautifully.

“Come to bed with me,” John says. He turns and grabs Simon’s hand. “Stay the night. We don’t even have to do anything. I just need you here with me.”

His earnest words hang in the air for a moment. Simon and Nick are struck by them. It’s not like John to be this way, but who are they to deny him the comfort he yearns for, when it’s something they both want as well? 

Simon is the first to rise from the sofa. He keeps John’s hand in his, squeezing it. John lets himself be pulled up as he grabs for Nick.

“Help me get all this makeup off, would you Nigel?” Nick asks, his arm around his midsection.

“Alright.” John pulls him closer, leading him to his bathroom. “Charlie can go be a darling and warm up the bed for us.” He sends a wink his way, dropping his hand finally.

Simon laughs, pushing them together before they part. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t take too long.”

John flips the switch on and the bulbs above the mirror and vanity brighten the small space. He rummages through his cabinet for makeup wipes, eventually finding them in the back. He’s been lazy with removing his own makeup, it seems.

He rests a hand on Nick’s shoulder, drawing him in. His silk suit is luxuriously smooth beneath his fingertips. 

“Where do I even begin with you?” John laughs, looking down at him, expression conveying his adoration.

Nick rolls his eyes. “Eyes, John.”

“Someone’s got an attitude.”

“No, I’m just tired. Now _help me_.”

John follows his orders, gently pressing the makeup wipe to his face. The black comes off with ease: wet, ruined eyeliner smearing on his pale skin. Nick closes his eyes and leans into his hand, bringing a smile to John’s face.

He watches the makeup melting away as he works, foundation and mascara fading and revealing Nick’s natural face. He moves to his lips, wiping away the rest of the pale color that he didn’t kiss off minutes prior.

Nick opens his eyes, feeling as though he was under a trance. His face feels so bare yet so free. He looks up at John with the sweetest doe eyes. He moves forward and falls into his arms, John immediately taking him in and wrapping the keyboardist in a warm embrace.

They stay like that for a moment, Nick clutching onto John’s jacket, black bunched in between his fingers. His bangles press into his back, many of them new additions since the last time they saw each other.

“Let’s not keep him waiting,” Nick says as he pulls away slowly. “The drama king.”

“God knows he hates _that_.” John tosses the makeup wipe away and follows Nick into his bedroom.

It’s dark, calming. Simon’s form can be made out in the low light; the city skyline below offering a little illumination. His clothes lie in a pile on the floor, a black mass by the door. _So Arcadia._

He shifts to see them, their shadows filling the room. He runs a hand through his black hair. “Finally. Hurry up, I’m cold.”

“Yeah, right.” It’s John’s turn to roll his eyes.

Nick starts to strip, silk jacket the first thing to come off. John takes it for him and puts it on a chair in the corner of the room. He knows how much he’d stress if it got rumpled. He knows Nick too well. 

John steps in, helping Nick out of his clothes. Slow and innocent, he unbuttons his shirt and slips it off his shoulders. His trousers are next, calloused fingers brushing his thighs in the process.

They switch places, Nick with John this time. Off comes the black and the red, the white button down linen and the bangles adorning his slender wrist. Fingers touch warm skin, muscle memory guiding them along. They could never forget how to be together.

Nick slips underneath the sheets next to Simon. He turns his body to meet his, chest to his shoulder. John follows, pressing into Nick as close as he can get. Nick then turns, facing Simon. John’s chest is flush with his back.

“I’ve yet to get a kiss from you, Johnny.”

“Maybe you haven’t earned it yet, Le Bon.”

“Oh, I think I have.”

“Dammit, just kiss him, John.”

John does. He leans over Nick, smushing him into Simon’s chest more. This draws a sleepy chuckle out of him. Nick wraps his arms around Simon, hands caressing his bare skin to ‘warm him up’.

“How’d you get sandwiched between us?” Simon mumbles into Nick’s hair. He lets a hand glide along his back, warmth spreading between them quickly.

“I don’t think I had a choice.” Nick presses his cheek against his chest, so comfortable he could drift off in seconds, dreaming the loveliest dreams.

John meets Simon where he’s touching Nick, hands mingling beneath the sheets. “He’s the perfect size for spooning, isn’t he?”

“Maybe for you,” he retorts. “You’re both giants.”

“You love it.” John leans down more and nestles his head into the crook of Nick’s neck. Their hair falls on the edge of the pillow, brown and black mixing together.

Nick closes his eyes, lids feeling heavier as the minutes pass. He feels warm and loved, surrounded by his band.

Simon notices his silence, so he pulls him up enough to connect their lips. The kiss is soft, a tender goodnight without words. Nick sighs, mouth over his mouth and his fingers spread across his chest.

Nick flips himself around and John takes him into his arms. He has forgotten about the drugs and the drink, his need temporarily quieted by the warmth his lovers offer him. Having them close means so much, more than he could ever convey. He feels like coming home.

Duran feels like coming home.

As they drift, slow, then all at once, they realize how lucky they are to have each other. Through thick and thin, through the good, the great, and the terrible, they are together.

To be close, to be together: it’s all they can ask for at the end of the day. Power Station and Arcadia will run their course, and they’ll always know how and where to find each other when it’s all over. They will come home.

They dream of a notorious return, the crucial three making their debut.


End file.
